


Red Snow

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, F/M, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How much chaos can breeding a few frogs create? </p><p>When the fate of the universe rests on it, it attracts a lot more mayhem than one might think.</p><p>---</p><p>Fill for the HSWC Bonus Round 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Snow

**Author's Note:**

> i've been procrastinating on getting started on the HSWC's bonus round 2 for a while but i finally got this one done woohoo
> 
> fill for this prompt: http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/19285.html?thread=4555093#cmt4555093

You've never witnessed snowfall before.

It makes sense, considering the fact that you've lived your whole life on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific. It was temperate and beautiful there, but the passage of the seasons was only marked by the calendar and the shortening of days. Your home was never cold, and the sky was almost always clear, which made it perfect for stargazing with Bec during the cool autumn nights and muggy summer evenings. 

Of course, you knew what snow looked like from pictures, but you couldn't help but get just a little jealous when John and Rose described their winter excursions. You'd always wanted to feel the crunch of frozen flakes beneath your feet, or catch them in your mouth and feel them melt on your tongue.

How beautifully ironic it is that your planet is a winter wonderland by definition. 

You believe that it's also ironic that one Dave Strider, who has never experienced a snow day before either, isn't taking the opportunity to enjoy it. Your first course of action upon arriving on LOFAF was alchemizing as much holiday cheer as you could, ignoring the fact that it was the middle of spring because god dammit, you'd never had a white Christmas before and no one was going to stop you from creating one. When you invited him to share your joy with you and come play in the snow, he declined, insisting that you had a lot of important shit to do and a limited timeframe in which to do it. 

Well, that wasn't going to fly. Not like the snowball that you threw at the back of his head the moment he turned around, landing in his blond hair with a satisfying _squelch_.

He stops short, going absolutely still for a few seconds. Then, he brushes the icy wet clumps away and bends down to examine something on the ground. You tilt your head to the side questioningly, not realizing what he's doing until he stands up again and turns around. A misshapen, hastily formed snowball rests in his palm, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You're going _down_ , Harley."

That marks the start of a snow fight, which mostly involves the two of you chasing each other around and flinging poorly made snowballs at each other while tripping often and losing your footing in loose piles of snow. By the time you've both collapsed onto your backs with exhaustion, you're laughing loudly in between gasps for air. Despite the harsh cold of the world around you, you've never felt so warm.

\---

It turns out that when you're able to stop fooling around and actually get down to business, it's only a matter of hours before your tower has dozens of floors added onto it. It stretches up above the clouds and into the atmosphere, and since the alchimeter and other important game assets are at the top you suppose it's a good thing you're not afraid of heights. As Dave stated before, you two have important shit to take care of.

The complexity of your mission is daunting, especially since when taken at face value, the whole thing seems almost ridiculously simple. All you have to do is breed some frogs until you get one that's genetically perfect. It can't be that hard, right? 

Wrong. Your task is even more difficult than breeding a team full of Pokémon with 6/6 IVs. As your session's Space player, you have to create the universe frog, which is a huge step forward in winning the game and obtaining the prize you were all promised. Luckily, Dave is aware of the weight of your job and has offered his assistance, which is a huge help. 

Perhaps not so fortunately, he ends up becoming occupied trying to keep all the frogs in a contained space for further use, and so that they don't jump off the side of the enormous edifice that used to be your house. 

"Okay, like, no joke, we should alchemize some sort of gigantic amphibian tank or pond or something to keep all these fuckers from hopping away, because not even my sylladex can carry all of them. Shit- no, Kermit, that was not a goddamned suggestion- I swear to god, when all of this is over I'm gonna feed you to Jade's freaky alien hellhound!"

You roll your eyes as the large green frog springs in your direction, giving you an opportunity to catch it. "Quit being such a drama queen, Dave. You only have to hold onto them for as long as it takes to copy down their captcha codes, so that we can use them to make more."

"That's a few minutes too long. It's enough time for these sneaky little shits to come up with an escape plan. They're plotting against me, Jade, just look at them. You can see it in their creepy-ass sideways eyes."

The frogs croak innocently in response. 

You sigh. "Dave, really, I appreciate all the help, but-" 

Then a bright green flash of light cuts you off mid-sentence, and when it fades you see the huge dark wings, bared teeth and elongated black muzzle of Jack Noir. He'd been hovering in your vicinity for a good while earlier, following you and teleporting around no matter how many times you'd shout at him to leave you the hell alone. When his presence had disappeared and didn't come back for a while you'd foolishly believed that maybe he'd finally caught on that you didn't want him around, but that was clearly not the case. Well, there's no way he's going to fuck up your session any more than he already has; you're busy with something that's far too important to let him jeopardize. You're sick of him, and want him gone for good.

Dave stands stock-still, glancing nervously between you and Jack. "Uh, Jade-"

You don't answer him, instead taking out your gun and aiming it at the murderous beast. Jack's ivory eyes widen as you cock it and disengage the safety, your finger resting on the trigger. Taking a preparative stance in anticipation of the backlash, you shoot, firing bullets rapidly in the hopes that you'll at least scare him away. 

He doesn't move, his figure flickering and sparking neon, becoming oddly transparent. At first you assume he's phasing the bullets through his body, until you hear a hoarse shout of pain from behind you. You immediately stop shooting, but by the time you turn around it's too late to do anything. 

Jack was deflecting the bullets straight into Dave, who now has more holes in him than a slice of Swiss cheese. Time seems to slow down, and an icy chill runs down your spine, your blood running cold.

"No," you whisper, dropping your gun and dashing to his side. "Dave, _no_!" You manage to slow his fall as he topples backwards, blood soaking through his shirt and pooling on the ground below him. It doesn't even matter that it's ruining your dress, because Dave's dying and there's nothing you can do for him because holy shit you _killed_ him. You cradle his head in one hand, the other tentatively tucking itself under his side.

"Okay... you got me," he chokes out painfully, his voice barely audible and his face deathly pale. "Christ, Jade..."

"Shit," you mutter, guilt-stricken. "Shit, I'm sorry, Dave, I'm so sorry... shit, shit, _shit_..." 

His lips part shakily, and you think he's about to say something, but he just wheezes and goes still in your arms. You don't bother checking his nonexistent pulse because you know that he's dead, but you don't want to believe it. You don't want to believe that it was your gun that took his life in a stupid lapse of judgment; you don't want to believe that he's dead and it's because _you_ killed him.

The world around you seems to fade away, leaving you alone with your sorrow, even though Jack is still standing awkwardly off to the side without moving or saying anything. The harsh reality of your actions has left you numb, and even as the cold seeps into your skin you can't bring yourself to move, your heart just as consumed by the unforgiving winter as your planet. 

You murdered one of your best friends, and his blood is going to be even more difficult to wash from your mind than your dress.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah it started out cute but then it got sad haha i'm garbage
> 
> i'm sorry but not sorry enough


End file.
